


The Start of Something Ghoul

by Lady Divine (fhartz91)



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, Halloween, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-01
Updated: 2014-11-01
Packaged: 2018-02-23 11:50:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2546468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhartz91/pseuds/Lady%20Divine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt and his son meet a special little boy and his father while out trick-or-treating.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Start of Something Ghoul

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write something kind of cute with a twist in honor of Halloween, so here it is. I hope you like it :)
> 
> Warning for vague discussion about illness.

_Knock-Knock._

“Trick or Treat!” a chorus of high, tinny voices calls out. The door creaks slowly open, adding to the excitement. It’s an old house, but a familiar house. A house that always has carved pumpkins on the patio at Halloween and handmade wreaths hanging on the door at Christmas. A house that generations of children have run up to and knocked on its door. Those children grow up and bring _their_ children here, and their grandchildren, to visit the same, kind, grandmotherly woman, who never seems to age and always has a smile on her face and a tray of homemade caramel apples wrapped in wax paper waiting for the kids.

The white haired woman steps out, looks at the crowd of masks and made-up faces surrounding her, and gasps in mock fear.

“My goodness,” she says, putting a trembling hand to her mouth. “Look at all these goblins and ghouls on my porch tonight. I don’t suppose any of you like caramel apples, hmm?”

“Me! Me!” the cries ring out, and the woman smiles, reaching in through her door and grabbing up apples on their sturdy wooden sticks, handing them out one at a time, receiving a grateful “Thank you!” with every one.

The woman looks over each child and comments on every costume – the hand-crafted along with the store bought – with nothing but the highest praise.

As the crowd thins, two little boys approach, patiently waiting their turns.

“Why, Finn Hummel,” the old lady coos, smiling at the boy in the glittering indigo tuxedo and cape, “what a stunning costume. Did your father make it again this year?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the boy replies, smiling wide and displaying his gap-toothed grin. She hands him an apple and he drops it into his bag. “Thank you, Mrs. Karofsky.”

“You’re very welcome,” she says. Then her eyes bounce to the boy standing beside him. “And you – another scary vampire. But, I don’t think I remember seeing you before. What’s your name?”

“Michael,” the boy says, speaking with a somewhat pronounced lisp, courtesy of the plastic fangs crowding his mouth.

“Here, Michael,” she says, handing him an apple as well. “Thank you for stopping by so I can see your gorgeous costume. Give your parents my fondest regards.”

“Yes _h_ , ma’am,” the boy slurs, trying his best not to spit. “Thank you, ma’am.”

The boys wave politely as the kind woman closes her door. They turn together, stepping down from the porch and eying one another’s costumes as if they are catwalk rivals.

“So, your father makes your costumes?” Michael asks, looking Finn’s glittery outfit up and down with a critical eye.

“Yup,” Finn says, holding his head high, giving the boy a spin so that his cape twirls in the air – his favorite thing about the weighted fabric. “And what about your costume? It’s pretty cool. Did your parents buy it, or did someone make it for you?”

“It’s _th_ vintage,” Michael says proudly, his tongue tripping over his teeth. “It was _th_ my father’s when he was _th_ a little boy.” He smiles, holding the ends of his cape out wide, fanning the wings they make left and right.

“That’s right, Michael,” a tall man says, receiving both children at the wooden gate, “it belonged to your ancient, elderly father.”

The man standing beside him chuckles, reaching a hand out to Finn as the boy walks through the entrance.

“It really is an amazing costume, Mr….”

“Smythe,” Michael’s father supplies, holding out a hand in greeting, “Sebastian Smythe.”

“Kurt,” Finn’s father answers, taking Sebastian’s hand and shaking it. “Kurt Hummel, and this is my son, Finn.”

Sebastian nods at the boy in the sparkly cape, who is less concerned with the subject of adults’ names as he is with comparing his haul with the boy beside him.

“I think we’ve lost them,” Kurt says, laughing as the boys dive into their bags.

“It happens,” Sebastian agrees with a shrug.

Kurt narrows his eyes at the handsome man tousling his son’s hair.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you and your son before,” Kurt says.

“Is that so strange?” Sebastian asks, his grin becoming somewhat tight, but not terribly so.

“No,” Kurt says with a laugh. “It’s just – we’re kind of a small community. Everyone here knows everyone else’s secrets.”

“Ah.” Sebastian nods. “Well, to be perfectly honest, we’re not from around here,” he admits with a somewhat sheepish grin.

“I gotcha,” Kurt says with a wink. “It’s no secret that we’re one of the few neighborhoods in Lima that gives out full-sized candy bars and real popcorn balls – not that store-bought stale crud.” Sebastian’s lips quirk, almost in shame it seems, and Kurt rushes to elaborate. “Not that we mind,” he says, waving his hands in a gesture to wipe away any doubt. “It’s nice to see some new blood around here.”

Sebastian chuckles and Kurt turns wide eyes on him.

“What?” he asks, a little self-consciously.

“Nothing,” Sebastian says. “It’s just been a while since I’ve heard that term. Actually, we don’t eat the candy.”

Finn, totally engrossed in his conversation with Michael, catches that last part and his head snaps up, jaw dropping to the ground with utter and morose disbelief written all over his face.

“Don’t eat it?” he moans with regret on his new friend’s behalf. “Why not?”

“I’m on a special diet,” Michael says, looking down at the pregnant bag of sweets.

“A special diet?” Kurt asks, frowning a bit, looking from Michael back to his father.

“I adopted Michael from a hospital overseas,” Sebastian explains, turning his head and glancing down the street at a new wave of trick-or-treaters headed their way. “He has a rare, blood-borne illness that they were not equipped to handle.”

“But…is he okay now?” Kurt asks, gazing at the boy’s pale face and round, dark eyes with genuine concern. Sebastian watches the way Kurt looks at his son and smiles.

“There is no cure, but we’re managing it the best we can,” Sebastian says, putting a hand on Michael’s shoulder and giving it a squeeze. “It helps when you don’t have to worry about things like money. I feel awful for those parents whose children have to battle serious illnesses and don’t have an excess of disposable income.”

“Aren’t you the lucky one?” Kurt teases, knocking Sebastian playfully on the shoulder.

“Well, it’s old money,” Sebastian replies, ducking his head, that sheepish smile from before making a comeback. “I like to put it to good use.”

Kurt looks up right when Sebastian does and meets his eyes – deep green eyes that catch the surrounding street lights and flickering Jack-O-Lantern candles in such an unusual, mesmerizing way, as if with a single blink he could read Kurt’s mind, or hypnotize him into doing his bidding. Kurt shivers, and Sebastian notices, smiling devilishly. Kurt laughs.

He’s letting the magic of the evening get to him.

From the corner of his eye, Kurt sees Finn yawn. He pulls up the sleeve of his cable-knit sweater and looks at his watch.

“Oh my goodness!” he exclaims. “Look at the time. When did it get so late?”

“We’re not going now, are we?” Finn asks, whining the way tired children do while fighting back a yawn.

“I’m afraid so, kiddo,” Kurt says. “Grandpa wants to see you in your costume one last time before he takes his heart pill and goes to sleep. Besides, you’re just about dead on your feet, and I can’t carry you all the way back to the house.”

“We’d better be heading out as well,” Sebastian says, wrapping an arm around his son’s thin shoulders and holding him close.

“Do we have to?” Michael asks, sulking into his father’s embrace.

“I’m afraid so.”

“Alright.” Michael turns to Finn, who yawns again and shakes his head. “It was nice meeting you, Finn,” Michael says, extending a hand for Finn to shake.

“It was nice meeting you, too,” Finn says, taking Michael’s hand and shaking it.

“Do you guys…” Kurt starts, not eager to see this captivating man disappear from his life so quickly, “I know you said you aren’t from around here, but…”

“We’re in Westerville,” Sebastian says, anticipating Kurt’s question. “About two hours give or take, as the bat flies.”

“Ah,” Kurt says, casting his eyes down dejectedly. “That’s…quite a distance to travel for candy you guys can’t eat.”

“We’re visiting family,” Sebastian explains. “Family that we’ve been looking into visiting more often, maybe even moving closer to, so maybe we’ll see you around?”

Kurt nods, because if that question implies what Kurt hopes it did, the answer is definitely yes.

“Who knows,” he says, and he hopes Sebastian catches on to the fact that he’s flirting. It’s been a while, and he was never very good at it to begin with. “We might end up being neighbors.”

“Maybe,” Sebastian says, his voice a vague promise. “Then I could take you out for a bite.”

Kurt smiles, his cheeks flushing red and not from the chill in the autumn air.

“I’ll take you up on that,” Kurt says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his business card. Sebastian takes it, quickly slipping it from between Kurt’s fingers and putting it into his inside breast pocket. Kurt watches with a smile. He raises his hand and waves good-bye, backing away, pulling Finn along with him. Sebastian waves back, turning down the street with Michael, his bag of candy tucked under his arm.

Sebastian and Michael weave through several throngs of children racing up to houses and knocking noisily on doors. They walk against the flow of revelers, ducking down a dark street that has no lamps lit, no decorations on the porches, no trick-or-treaters anywhere to be seen.

“So, did you have a good time?” Sebastian asks, smiling down at his son.

“Yes _h_ ,” Michael says, reaching up and spitting out the false teeth that had been covering his real fangs all night, glad to be rid of them. “That was a blast. Finn and his dad are really nice. Don’t you think they’re really nice?” Michael asks, bouncing with the enthusiasm of any eight-year-old on Halloween.

“Yeah,” Sebastian agrees, turning one last time and using his supernatural vision to spot the father and son walking down the street. Kurt looks over his shoulder and bites his lip coyly, as if he knows he’s being watched. Sebastian eyes the dent his teeth make in his lip. If his heart were still beating in his chest, it would be racing out of control by now. “They were great. And with any luck, we’ll see them again.” Sebastian puts a hand over the pocket with the business card safely hidden inside and smiles. “So, are you ready to give it another try?”

“Yeah,” Michael says, looking anxious, “it’s just…I’m not as good at it as you are.”

“It takes practice,” Sebastian says, and with that, he changes. Transforming into a bat is effortless for Sebastian. Michael manages the feat with a little less finesse, but even though he’s only done it about a dozen times, he makes a handsome young bat. Father and son circle the neighborhood once to stretch their leathery wings, and then take to the air, disappearing into the night.


End file.
